Unknown forest.
Middle of nowhere.
Confrontation.
The weakest Havoc… versus a Runt fiend.
Riitharion stood in stance, eyes steady.
"I may be weakened," he said calmly, "but centuries of experience will make this difficult for you."
The fiend tilted its head slowly. Its neck cracked side to side. A twisted smile spread across its face. It raised its left arm, palm open upward.
Its voice shrieked, distorted and uncanny.
"I will grind you into mince with my claws… devour your essence… and inherit your strength… your experience!"
It lunged forward.
Fast.
Head-on.
Riitharion adjusted the position of the stick in his hand, rotating it forward until it pointed directly at the charging fiend.
Then—
Thrust.
The stick shot forward with precision, piercing straight through the fiend's right eye.
Its body halted mid-motion.
"Fatal distraction," Riitharion said coldly. "Strike the weakest point at close range. Then—"
The fiend screamed, ripping the stick from its eye. Blood spilled down its face as it clutched the wound. With one eye blinded, it searched wildly.
But Riitharion had already vanished from its sight.
The fiend turned its head left. Right.
Behind—
Suddenly, its left knee collapsed, forcing it to kneel.
"Knees," Riitharion's voice echoed. "Suppress the movement."
A dark chuckle followed.
The fiend's eye regenerated rapidly. Flesh reformed. Vision returned.
It spun around—
Leaves burst upward into the air, blocking its sight.
Before it could react—
Two sharpened sticks pierced into both its eyes.
It screamed, rising to its feet and slashing wildly in panic, claws tearing through empty air.
"Panicking already?" Riitharion taunted.
"Pain makes even predators afraid."
He appeared behind it once more, now holding a longer sharpened branch. In his other hand—a large rock.
He threw the rock toward the fiend's front.
Instinctively, the fiend turned and slashed forward.
At that exact moment—
Riitharion leapt in from behind, aiming the sharpened branch toward its neck.
He smiled.
But—
The fiend's instinct reacted instantly.
Its arm swung backward violently.
Claws tore across Riitharion's stomach.
Blood splashed outward.
He landed, gripping the wound.
The fiend stood fully now, laughing mockingly.
"I forgot… you have a weak vessel. Weak body. Weak strength."
"You focus on blinding me, disabling movement, creating distractions."
"Predictable. And you still call me an amateur?"
Riitharion stared at it.
"Hm. Interesting," he replied calmly. "Your instincts are sharper than expected."
He chuckled.
Then slowly removed his hand from his stomach.
The wound had already healed.
He straightened his posture.
"You think distraction failed?" His tone deepened. "No. I was studying you."
He flexed his fingers.
"I'll pressure you head-on this time. No tricks."
His palm opened.
The vessel's nails extended, hardening, sharpening—forming natural blades.
"Let's bruise."
The fiend raised an eyebrow.
"I see…"
It cracked its knuckles, claws extending, muscles tightening.
Riitharion adjusted his stance.
Right hand forward near his chest.
Left arm angled slightly outward.
Feet spread sideways, balanced and grounded.
No distractions now.
No blind spots.
Only combat.
The battle was ready to begin again.
At a short distance from each other, both stood still.
Steady.
Staring.
No movement.
The air felt tight, heavy. Neither made the first move. They waited. And waited.
A single leaf drifted down slowly between them, spinning in the air. Lower. Lower.
The moment it nearly touched the ground—
Both moved instantly.
The fiend lunged first, its left claw slicing forward in a brutal arc aimed at Riitharion's head.
Riitharion raised his left arm on guard and slipped aside just enough. At the same time, his right claw swung deep into the fiend's wrist.
Blood splashed.
The fiend was wounded first.
But it didn't stop.
Its right arm charged in immediately, yet Riitharion intercepted it again. His right arm slashed across the bicep and dragged down toward the wrist, tearing flesh open.
The fiend snarled and suddenly leaned forward, jaws opening wide to bite through Riitharion's face.
Riitharion predicted it.
He shifted one foot back, barely avoiding the snap of teeth that closed inches from his skin.
Then—
Two fingers shot forward.
He stabbed directly into both of the fiend's eyes.
Without hesitation, his other hand pierced into its neck, then pulled out swiftly.
The same motion continued—his fingers drove into its ear, rupturing it, destroying its balance and hearing.
The fiend staggered, suppressed, but forced itself upright again.
It growled loudly, slashing wildly through the air around it.
Riitharion spoke calmly,
"Still an amateur. Your movements are predictable. Sloppy."
He flicked his arms aside, blood splashing to the ground.
Then he stepped forward.
The fiend swung blindly. Riitharion blocked with his left backhand and drove his arm deep into the fiend's side. The fiend screamed.
Then Riitharion thrust again—his hand piercing straight through the torso, coming out the other side.
He pulled it out quickly.
The fiend stood frozen for a moment.
Then slowly collapsed to the ground.
Riitharion stepped back, watching the body fall.
He laughed menacingly.
"Oh my… such a promising battle. Yet too boring."
He crouched near the corpse.
"I suppose it's time to claim my first essence."
His smile widened.
"This is going to be… delicious."
He lifted the body slightly, exposing its chest. Then he drove his hand into the center, searching.
A wet, squishing sound filled the air.
"Hmmm… where is it…"
His fingers moved through flesh until—
He felt it.
Something firm.
Light.
Yet dense.
"Oh… there it is."
He pulled it out between two fingers.
Blood splattered as he lifted it into the air.
"Ugh… this blood is ruining my appetite. Regardless…"
He lowered it to eye level.
A small, faintly glowing crystal.
"Crystal essence, and the Havoc's little soul inside..."
Without hesitation, he opened his mouth and swallowed it whole.
"Ahhh… what a relief."
Suddenly, a diamond-shaped crystal formation began emerging from his wrist, pushing outward like a growing plant before solidifying.
It glowed.
A deep red light pulsed from it, spreading through his veins, illuminating his entire body from within.
Riitharion inhaled slowly.
"Interesting… I'll find another—"
His sentence stopped mid-word.
His body swayed slightly.
"Oh… he's waking up. Grassth."
His voice softened faintly.
"Oh well."
Before fading, he glanced once more at the dead fiend.
"Take a look…"
His eyes closed.
Then reopened.
The color shifted back to normal.
Grassth awakened.
His eyes widened in disbelief at the sight before him—the torn body, the blood everywhere.
The smell hit him.
He turned and vomited.
"What… happened?"
He stared at his hands.
"I did this?"
A deep voice echoed inside his mind.
"No. I did. You're merely the vessel that grew stronger because I emerged. My azure, not yours. Fool."
The mocking tone lingered.
Riitharion sighed. Then he spoke again.
"Now, is there any current potential classification showing up? Look through your mind. See it clearly."
Grassth was still gasping after vomiting. He spat to the side and slowly walked past the fiend's corpse, avoiding looking directly at it.
"Where are you going, Grassth?" Riitharion asked.
"I'll check it later. First, we need to find shelter… then clothes, and a weapon."
"Ugh, stubborn," Riitharion laughed.
"Finding shelter? A weapon? Clothes? In the wild? What are you, expecting something to appear in front of you like a bubble?"
Grassth replied without stopping,
"Then create one. Make a shelter. Make clothes. Make a weapon. Look around, dumbass."
"This environment is full of scraps you can use. Maybe there are wild animals. Goblins too."
"Skin them, peel the leather, make it into clothes. Chop wood big or small to build a small shelter. Isn't that common sense?"
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then Riitharion giggled.
"Hm… calm down, will you? You expect I didn't know that? Everything around you can be turned into a tool."
"You can create things however you like. I know that. I think you're just getting a little comfortable… because I'm here."
Grassth sighed deeply.
"Me? Comfortable? I'm uncomfortable right now because you're here, making it worse."
"I don't even know why you chose to inhabit me as a vessel."
"I have a weak body and a fragile mind, and I'm fully aware of that. You said you read my memories, so why are you speaking useless words now?"
Riitharion answered calmly.
"Not useless. And I lied. I didn't read your memories."
"I don't have that ability. I only know your power, your condition, and your experience not your past memories."
"I just happen to see what's currently on your mind."
Grassth frowned.
"Ugh, you silly dog. Then don't speak as if you fully understand me. And shut up for a moment. Night is coming. I need to focus."
"Me? A silly dog?" Riitharion's voice darkened slightly.
"Don't get too comfortable. You don't know what I'm capable of. And I won't shut up. I'll give you a hard time while you're busy."
"Shut up, you clown," Grassth muttered. "My clothes are ruined. I'm half naked."
They continued walking through the forest after their victorious fight against the runt fiend.
The ground was uneven, covered with fallen leaves and broken branches.
Grassth's bare skin felt the cold air brushing against it, and the dried blood on his body tightened as it hardened.
As they walked, Grassth began picking up sticks from the ground, testing their weight. Some snapped too easily.
Others were too thin. He finally found one sturdy enough and kept it in his hand.
He also picked up a small rock, gripping it tightly as if already imagining how to use it.
His breathing slowly steadied, but exhaustion lingered in his limbs.
The crystal embedded in his wrist faintly glowed, its red light barely visible beneath his skin.
Riitharion spoke, "Oh, I forgot to hide my crystal essence."
Grassth's voice resonated through the air, "This feels... familiar. This... this is the crystal I pulled from the rift. Tell me, Riitharion, I know a bit about crystals—but could this one be yours? Or... you?"
Riitharion replied,
"Hmm… it is me. But try removing it, or crushing it. You'll die—and only I will remain."
"Ugh, it's like being cursed by a witch from the inside. Annoying to be a vessel."
"I should've stayed dead. Wishing you didn't choose me," Grassth said, his voice laced with irritation.
"Hmm, and yet you were drawn here… seeking power, strength, or maybe just money."
"Isn't that so, weakling? Care to tell your story?" Riitharion asked."
Grassth paused, sighing. "I wanted strength. Money… that's the problem. If only I'd focused on high-paying work instead of clearing rifts."
Riitharion chuckled,
"Funny… how old are you? Not that it matters. I don't need to tell you my age—I'm an 'Ancient,' after all."
"I'm seventeen," Grassth replied,
"just only Lower Scholarium[1] graduate."
"Lower? Such a pitiful stage. My previous vessels weren't even that low… And yet here you are—the first."
"Oh, shut up, Ritardon," Grassth snapped.
"Don't annoy me again. You don't know my history."
"I wanted to be alone. I died in the rift to rest after betrayal and now you've dragged me back to suffer again. Ugh."
"What, are you going to cry? Come on, spit it out! It'll feel good…"
"No. I don't want to, and I don't care. I'm tired of hearing insults and mockery. Letting it out is useless."
"Oh, come on. Cry, be sad. Look at you—a pathetic worm, feeding on your own words. No one understands you."
"Want revenge...? Too bad you're weak. I'm the only one who can take it for you…"
Grassth stopped walking through the forest. He let the rocks and dirt fall from his hands and sighed deeply.
"Anger, sadness, pain… I understand them all, but only pain remains. I shout my pain, not sadness or anger."
"Words are useless when no one can understand them. Even my presence is meaningless."
He began to build a campfire as the night crept closer.
Riitharion chuckled. "So sad… what about happiness? You've memories with your squadmates, haven't you?"
"Temporary," Grassth replied.
"The moments I spent with them only made me crave more, drew me into comfort I wasn't meant to share."
"I wasn't chosen. They gave me what I wanted to be part of… but it was only temporary."
Riitharion sighed, "Blah blah blah. I don't care. Just make the fire. You chose to be there, so you're a fool."
"Humans act without thinking… though you're only fifteen, so I suppose that's understandable. Almost died early, and now…"
"I'll just use you as a tool to suffer. Delicious."
"I will not be a tool. I will not let you hurt anyone."
"Just because you are stronger doesn't mean I can't control myself. I will balance it… within me."
Riitharion fell silent for a moment before laughing again. "Nonsense. You'll die if you try to remove that crystal from your wrist."
Grassth gripped a sharpened stick and struck the crystal with all his strength. The crystal glowed, sending pulses through his veins, then finally popped out.
His heart stopped. He collapsed to the ground. The crystal cracked, slowly losing its color until it vanished.
"Ugh… stubborn," Riitharion's voice echoed in his mind.
"You nearly killed us both."
Grassth's heart began to beat again. He breathed deeply.
"I thought so…" he murmured, exhaling.
He returned to the campfire, striking flint against stone until sparks caught the kindling. Smoke curled upward, and he blow the growing flames.
He crossed his legs, observing the fire.
"So? Nearly killed us both… just as I expected. I'm not a fool, Riitharion."
"Hmm… I know," Riitharion replied.
"But there's no crystal anymore. That was a fake. I am already part of you… can't you feel it?"
"My essence, my azure. I'll use it when I control you."
"So I can't use it? Maybe. But if you slip… I'll take it. And in time, I'll adapt."
Riitharion giggled. "How terrifying… little twig. Look at the fire again."
Grassth glanced at it, the flames now glowed red and half orange. Alarmed, he scanned his surroundings. Dark. All around.
"Where am I?!"
"Hmph… weakling," a deep, terrifying voice said from behind.
Grassth slowly turned. A towering creature stood before him—massive, two muscular arms ending in sharp claws, elbows tipped like needles.
Its teeth gleamed gold, sharp as fangs. One ear was human, the other pointed. Horns twisted atop its head.
Eyes wide, blood-red, pupils orange. Long legs, round waist, chest scarred with a vertical gash.
It leaned toward Grassth.
"Hmm… you're short. Maybe 5'5 or 5'6… not 5'9."
It laughed maniacally, slapping its lap and resting a clawed hand on Grassth's shoulder.
"You amuse me," it said.
"Though I'm taller, of course. You measured like a fool using only a finger instead of your whole arm."
It sighed, then punched Grassth in the stomach. He flew backward, rolling on the ground, blood spatting.
Slowly, he rose, noticing Riitharion approaching. Grassth closed his eyes, then opened them.
The world around him shifted—dead grass and flowers beneath his feet, dark shadows around, the earth soaked with blood like thick mud.
"You… you're a sad boy, craving attention. Here I am… bow, fear me! I'll grant your revenge… anything. Let me take control."
"Naturally foolish," Grassth replied, straightening his stance, exhaling slowly.
"You think I'll fall for such manipulative words? Fight me, and I'll fight back. Find another, or else…"
"…both of us will die."
Riitharion's eyes widened, a thought flickering in his mind.
Hmm… something's missing.
He grinned, standing still, palm open, eyes glancing at Grassth.
"You? Fight me? What can a mere weakling like you do? Spit at me? Or… run away?"
"I will run no more!," Grassth growled.
"I'll grow stronger. You'll regret bringing me back to this world."
"You should have let me stay dead. And speaking of weak… even you have been weakened? Weakest of the Havocs…"
Riitharion scoffed, "Pfft… ugh, can you just stop that?"
"What?"
"Ugh… it's so cliché. Other vessels I've inhabited always spoke like that… and they always failed."
"Except one, only one ever succeeded. Well, yes, you're somewhat right… but I am not the weakest."
"I was once strong, and in time… I will be stronger. Killing without hesitation—it's simple, really."
"Keep talking… you're all words."
Riitharion's grin widened, his voice cutting sharp.
"Words? Me? Ha! No… you are all talk, weakling. You couldn't even defeat that runt earlier. Just a scratch… pathetic."
Riitharion sighed, "Alright alright enough"
"Come at me, weakling. Head-on!"
Riitharion assumed his bruised stance, ready.
"Hmph… this time, I'll show you."
Grassth too take a solid stance, eyes burning.
Both of them we're ready, tension radiating between them, ready to clash.
[1] No need to explain just a word. "School", because it sounds cool... Yeah yeah I know just wrap it up continue reading.